


kevin/justin

by romanticalgirl



Series: December Ficlets 2007 [49]
Category: Brothers & Sisters
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 02:03:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 12-5-07</p>
    </blockquote>





	kevin/justin

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 12-5-07

Kevin stumbles into his dorm room just before dawn, still buzzing with booze and whatever it was he took, licking it from the fingers of the half naked man just to the left of the bar. Whatever it was, it made Kevin feel warm and loose and free, which is everything he’s not, so he took advantage of every second of it, dancing and drinking and doing things that he’s pretty sure he might regret when he finds sobriety.

He shucks his clothes easily, half unbuttoned and wrinkled as they are, leaving them in some sort of debauched trail that might help him find where he left his car keys in the morning. As it is, he just wants to be naked, push off all the constrictions that keep him together, and asleep.

He crawls up his bed, stopping halfway up the mattress as he realizes there’s already someone there. The debate trophy in the corner glows brightly, iridescent and neon like something out of Xanadu and so he knows this is his room, which means someone isn’t supposed to be here, and he’s relatively certain that it isn’t him. 

Of course, maybe this is a return favor from last weekend.

He finishes his climb, hands and knees framing the body beneath him until he’s on top of it, warm and hot and sweaty in equal measure. He can feel the drug in his veins, beating out a rhythm of bass and sex. “My turn, hmm?” He murmurs, mouth finding skin and tasting, smoothing it against his tongue. 

“Kev’n?” The voice is rough and sleep-thick, familiar and warm. Kevin can’t hear the warning bells in his head over the pounding of his blood, drug thick and booze slow, throbbing in his ears. He finds the words, steals his name into his mouth, kissing slow and soft, biting and kissing and licking and soothing until he can feel the hard press of flesh growing beneath him, feel the slide of fingers against his flesh. The voice is like a breath, something Kevin can inhale and live on. “Fuck…Kevin.”

Something registers, something stronger than the drug and the booze and the need, and Kevin jerks back, sober so suddenly he can feel the sting of whiplash. “Justin?”

His brother looks worse than Kevin imagines he does, stoned or worse and sprawled in Kevin’s bed in muddy shoes and tattered jeans and a shirt Kevin’s pretty sure used to be his. Kevin focuses on the little things – the pattern on the shirt, the Rorschach test of mud splatters – rather than the big things – his bed, his brother, both of them aroused. “Was at a party.”

Kevin nods and gets off the bed, digging for clothes and throwing them on, distancing himself from the bed. “Go back to sleep.”

Justin opens an eye. “Is it morning?”

“No. Not yet.”

He nods and closes his eyes again. “Was dreaming.”

“Go back to sleep.” Kevin whispers, unable to breathe, sure he’ll never breathe again.


End file.
